We Are the Chosen
by Donny's Boy
Summary: A more serious minded remix of Movie 3.  Feudal Japan opens a whole new world to the turtles that is exciting and fulfilling ... but which must, ultimately, be rejected.  Also eventually ties in with the 2007 movie.
1. Uncaged

"We Are the Chosen"

By Donny's Boy

Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the plot relating to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and I am making no money from this story. I mean no harm.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, but nothing much more serious than what was in the actual movie.

Author's Notes: This is in answer to Hunnam's fic challenge on Stealthy Stories to rewrite the third movie to make it "appealing." This story is set during and directly after the events of Movie Three. While I've tried to keep everything reasonably in canon, I've also taken a few interpretive liberties to present a more serious, introspective version of the story we know and love(?).

---

**Prologue**

"_A long time ago on a continent far, far away, an evil emperor (was) set on destroying all that (was) good._

_All hope was lost._

_Then, there was a blinding light and stepped forth the chosen ones, the ones that would restore peace, the greatest heroes of all time …"_

—_Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3__, DVD introduction_

**I. Uncaged  
**

Steady thumping, a flat palm on a timpani drum. Every hit of the drum echoed like a thunderclap. With every heartbeat, someone slapped the drum—and the thunder resounded, over and over, in his brain.

It _hurt_. Not just a migraine, no, but a migraine of utter doom and destruction.

Summoning hidden reserves of willpower, Michelangelo forced open his eyes. Immediately they protested, and he blinked rapidly against the sudden influx of light. Then he sucked in a sharp breath at the pain. Hadn't had a headache like this in a while.

Giggling. Giggling?

Mike whipped his head around towards the sound and instantly regretted doing so. _Ow,_ yelped his brain in angry reproach. _Ow, ow, ow, ow! _But even so, Mike managed to muster up a smile for the small Japanese children who were peering in at him. He didn't get out much more than a simple hello, however, before they took off.

Strange. Cute, but strange. Shrugging, Mike took the opportunity to look around at his surroundings. "Where am I?" he muttered in confusion. The small room, constructed of solid logs, held various odds and ends. Sky and earth were visible outside. A storage area? A smoke house? A tool shed, maybe, or …

Suddenly, fiercely, Michelangelo frowned.

… or a _cage_.

Mikey had always hated cages, hated confinement. In fact, the first time Casey Jones had ever gone into the sewers with them, he'd empathized with the human's discomfort. As Donny had snickered in wry amusement—_"You're a claustrophobic!"_—Mikey had found himself wondering who wasn't, deep down, at least a little claustrophobic. Who wouldn't crave the fresh, open air above the streets, where one could run and stretch and breathe?

Looking around again, Mike felt an itchy nervousness make its way up the back of his neck. The room was too small. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't—the room was just way too restrictive. It became a chanting, jeering voice in his head: _The room is too small. The room is too small._ He took a deep breath and tried to center himself, like Splinter had taught.

Open meadows. Long, flowing streams. An endless expanse of blazing blue sky.

_The room is too small._

Frantically he glanced around. The logs weren't logs anymore; they were bars. Mikey jumped up and began pacing, feeling his pulse quicken with every step he took. Bars. Trapped. In a _cage_. Just like when he and his brothers were little, before the mutagen. Just like a lab specimen. Just like—

Gunfire derailed him from his train of thought. Gunfire? They had guns in feudal Japan? Surely that couldn't be right. He'd have to ask Don about it, when he found his brothers again.

He steadfastly refused to consider that it might be a matter of _if_ he found them again.

Then Mike heard the sound a second time, and it was definitely gunfire. He perked up. Guns didn't usually mean anything good, but at least guns meant something different. And different was good. Almost anything was preferable to being in a cage. Peering through the slats between the logs, he looked out at the village beyond. It only took a few moments before he spotted the first of the men with guns.

Showtime. Quickly Mike scrambled to position himself by the door. If an escape opportunity was to present itself, no way did he intend to miss it. And, sure enough, before long he could hear the clattering of people trying to open the door from the other side. Finally, blessedly, the door swung open.

"My heroes," he greeted enthusiastically—only partially joking—as he stepped out into freedom, only to be greeted by screaming Englishmen.

Then he found swords and, after that, everything got a bit crazy.

Much later, after Clint Eastwood and horseback-riding lessons, after meeting Yoshi and meeting Mitsu, Michelangelo stood on top of a hill and watched the sun set. The hill where Mitsu had prayed for the safety of her beloved Kenshin. But Mike stood alone now. While Mitsu had left when the air began to turn cold, he'd stayed to watch the sun set. He'd never watched a sunset before—not from start to finish, anyways. He decided he liked sunsets.

Climbing down from his hill, he walked back towards the main village. The evening's darkness surrounded him like a protective blanket. As he entered town, people stopped to give him a smile or a wave. It was a bit jarring at first but, after a while, Mikey began smiling and waving back. Like with sunsets, he decided he liked when people didn't run away shrieking in fear from the very sight of him. Liked how he could walk anywhere and everywhere, without skulking in shadows.

Finally his leisurely stroll took him back to his brothers and April. With a sigh, Mike realized they were arguing. He loved his brothers—no doubt about it—but sometimes, they could be total downers. Here they all were in paradise, a place where they were respected, a place where they could be free, a place with sunsets right out of an oil painting … and they were arguing with one another. About something.

_Probably something silly, too,_ thought Mikey dejectedly. His sunset-induced good mood began to fade.

"Hey, look who decided to finally put in an appearance," Raphael called out as soon as Mikey was within hearing range.

Putting on a grin, Mike replied, "What's the haps, bros?"

"Well, the blacksmith finally finished our brand new time scepter." Don held it up then sighed. "But not quite everyone is convinced that my blueprints are theoretically sound." He looked pointedly at April, who just rolled her eyes in response.

As far as Michelangelo could determine, that actually seemed like a valid point. Thoughtfully he frowned. He'd seen enough sci-fi films to know that there must be a host of dangers involved, so he carefully ventured, "What if this doesn't work, dudes? What if we make, like, a cosmic U-turn and end up back in Godzilla land?"

It was Leo who provided the reply, in that familiar, take-charge tone of his: "We don't have a choice. Unless you wanna stay here."

Mike began to open his mouth, to answer that of course he didn't want to stay—but then he paused and thought twice. He thought about their home, about the sewers, and realized that regardless of how extensive the underground tunnels might be, the sewers were a cage. They always had been, and they always would be.

"Well," he said at last, looking Leonardo in the eye, "maybe we _should_."


	2. Fire

**II. Fire**

Leonardo sat quietly, his posture a textbook example of perfect, and listened to his brothers with half an ear. Just enough that he could identify each voice and the gist of what each brother was saying. Michelangelo was peppering Mitsu with questions about her village's feud with Norinaga. Donatello was arguing, more or less amicably, with April over the merits of trying to reconstruct the damaged replacement time scepter. The only brother missing was Raphael—who had recently left to go give the boy, Yoshi, the present of a yo-yo.

Sitting with his shell to them all, Leo stared into the fire before him and allowed its embers to gently soothe his aching joints. It had been a long day. And while his body had been toughened through years of ninjitsu training, it had still been somewhat unprepared for the particular physical tortures inherent in horseback-riding. But right now, the fire warmed his tired body and lit the dark room. Leo breathed in deeply, gratefully. Though it had been a long day, it seemed to be ending well. Everyone was once again safe and accounted for, and though there remained the unfortunate reality that morning promised battle and the time scepter was still missing—

A sudden burst of laughter caught Leo's attention. Mitsu. Glancing over, he saw the woman chuckling over something Mikey had said, while his brother watched her with dark, glistening eyes and a wide smile.

He then glanced over to Don and April, who were still engaged in quiet discussion between themselves. Frowning, he wondered how long Raphael planned to stay at Yoshi's house. He hoped not long. They had to figure out how to get home, and they didn't have long.

Leonardo had to admit, he also just found it odd that the young one had taken so strongly to Raph. His brother was rough and quick to anger. Unpredictable. Blunt. Not a suitable playmate for a child, not at all. But he had to admit that, in the presence of Yoshi, Raph's voice grew softer and his actions a touch gentler.

Regardless, Leo thought it would have been Mike who the boy would most favor. Humans always warmed up to Mike first, won over by his ever-ready smile and charmed by his jokes for any and every occasion. Not to mention, it had been Mikey who'd braved the fire to save the child.

And—the thought came as quick and loud as a whip-crack, and completely unbidden—it had been Leonardo who saved the child again with resuscitation.

Scowling silently, Leo moved a bit closer to the fire and a bit farther from everyone else. _You're jealous, _he realized with distaste. _You're jealous of _Raph_, of all people._

He didn't begrudge Raph his friendship with the boy. Certainly not. And yet … the ache in Leo's bones wasn't entirely from the day's physical activities. Something deep inside himself, something hidden and unknown, ached to touch Yoshi the way that Raph touched the child. A quick caress of the cheek, a ruffling of the hair—all of it so simple, yet so profound.

The fire danced and cavorted merrily, throwing out shadows like long fingers. Leo thought about the fire's touch, invisible but real, felt but unseen, in the heat emanating from the flames. _It was like fire,_ thought Leo. When he had literally breathed life—his very own life—into the boy, that breath had been invisible but real.

Invisible, real, and powerful. So powerful.

Leonardo had protected lives, and Leonardo had taken lives, but never before had Leonardo _given_ life. So powerful. It left him feeling slightly dizzy. Before, life had never been something he could touch. The lives he saved, the lives he took … he never knew a thing about any of them. With the exceptions of April and Casey and a few others, no one had ever gotten close enough to see him or his brothers. Let alone close enough to actually touch them.

He smiled as he remembered. After awakening and coughing, Yoshi had looked up at him with wide, wondering eyes. Then he'd reached up. For a brief moment, his small fingers had brushed across Leo's broad face.

The embers inside Leonardo flamed into a blaze. He hazarded a glance over his shoulder and saw Mike leaning towards Mitsu, eye to eye, while she laid a gentle hand against the turtle's cheek. Sighing, Leo returned his attentions to the fireplace.

Strike swiftly.

Fade back into the shadows.

Never be seen.

_Never_ be seen.

These were the mantras of his life, of all four of their lives. But it wasn't like that here, and Leonardo felt as though he was a starving man suddenly presented with a buffet table. He wanted to know about Yoshi. He wanted to know everything. What the boy liked to play, what the boy liked to eat, his favorite color, his darkest fear. He wanted to run the tips of his calloused fingers over the boy's face, slowly, very slowly, learning every curve and every line.

He wanted to desperately devour as much as possible, because he knew that when they went back, he would never again get to experience humans—or life—so intimately. Frowning, he suddenly remembered that odd comment Mike had made earlier. _"Well, maybe we should."_ But that was impossible, even if—

"Leo?"

Glancing up, he saw Donatello standing a few feet away, looking thoughtful. Leo swallowed and wondered how long his brother had been there. "What's up, Donny?"

"April and I were wondering if you wanted to come talk with us. Maybe you, uh, have some insights on the current dilemma."

Leo nodded and stood up, stretching. "Don't worry. We'll figure something out."

Donny smiled his thanks before wandering back over to April. Leo didn't follow. Instead he glanced at the fire, surprised at how unwilling he suddenly was to leave its warm embrace. But, as usual, he'd been called to duty. And he would obey. Sighing softly, Leonardo left the warmth of the fire and headed towards the other side of the room, where Don and April awaited his input.

---  
Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, Rene and Jarred! Here's some introspective Leo for your day.

Update: Minor revisions 8/15. As always, much thanks for the criticism, Rene!


	3. Broken

**III. Broken**

To hide one's wounds was instinct, Donatello had once explained, while they were all watching some nature documentary. It was something an animal did without thinking. The sick animal, the broken animal, the old animal … these animals would all die. They would be targeted and picked off by predators. Therefore, to avoid becoming someone else's meal, an animal naturally hid its wounds.

And so it was with Raphael.

Which was only to be expected. Raph had always known that he, above his brothers, had remained more of an animal after the mutation. Even so, his current situation was absolutely ridiculous. The boy had wounded Raph without trying, without even knowing he was doing so, but still Raph felt himself cut to the very marrow.

"Tomorrow you might die," the child had murmured, with a blend of sadness and acceptance that was unsettling to hear in one so young. And, while dark eyes had eerily reflected the room's scant candlelight, the boy had insisted with hot intensity, "I cannot let you die, Raphael."

But even that wasn't what had made Raph want to cry. No, it wasn't until Yoshi wrapped his little arms around him, not until he pressed his little cheek against his, that Raph had felt the lump rise in his throat. It was then that he had clutched the boy closely to his chest while fighting down a sudden, ridiculous urge to cry. Pain mixed with joy to create a rolling, bubbling mixture in Raphael's stomach. Pain that this child was so upset, joy that the boy cared enough about a mutant turtle to be so upset—and both the pain and the joy _hurt_, both ripped a hole right through his plastron, a wound that wouldn't heal. It hurt to be loved so fiercely by a child, because how could he ever be worthy of Yoshi's affection? He couldn't. Still, he had felt compelled to try.

And that's why Raph had abandoned all common sense and promised something he had no business promising. That's why he had promised that no one would die.

Now, as he and his brothers arduously scaled the walls of Lord Norinaga's castle, Raphael found himself wishing he could take that promise back. War was serious business. People _died_ during war. That's just how it was. Shaking his head, Raph silently berated himself. He shouldn't have made such a crazy promise. To make matters worse, Michelangelo and Donatello were keeping up a near-constant stream of chatter as they climbed.

"Is this what they mean by getting totally vertical?" quipped Mike.

Don chuckled quietly in reply. But that didn't mean much. Donny laughed at a lot of stupid things. Because Don, himself, had the world's cheesiest sense of humor. With a scowl, Raph remembered that terrible "Help, I can't get up" joke from earlier and felt jealous that Mike had managed to not be around for it.

Meanwhile, Don had taken up the wise-cracking: "Turtles … it's not just a job. It's an adventure!"

It took nearly all of Raphael's willpower to not knock his brothers right off the wall and into the moat below.

Raph sighed. He knew the babbling was just Mike and Donny's coping mechanism, his brothers' way of squelching pre-fight anxiety. But that didn't mean it wasn't annoying as all get-out. Besides, Raph had his own edginess to contend with. He was a turtle who kept his promises, and that meant he was about to fling himself into battle with one hand tied behind his shell.

Soon enough, they were in position. Raph took out a sai and gave it an idle twirl before shoving it back into his belt. He sighed again. Beside him, Leo slowly and silently removed a single katana. The steel glinted menacingly under the moonlight.

"Hey, guys," whispered Raph, keeping his tone painstakingly casual, "how's about we be careful here? Not rough 'em up too bad?"

Three pairs of eyes immediately zeroed in on him, and Raphael swallowed nervously. It was Don, though, who started snickering. "Heh, you're going soft, Raph. Too much time playing babysitter with Yoshi?"

Raph glared daggers at his brother, and Donatello had the good sense to flinch and take a step back.

But before anything more could come of it, Leo came unexpectedly to the rescue. "No, Raph's right," he said, to everyone's considerable surprise. "I know Lord Norinaga is Mitsu's enemy … but he's also Kenshin's father."

Mike mumbled something under his breath, but there weren't any further protests. Raphael allowed himself a small smirk. He'd won. Raph began to feel a bit better about the situation.

And things went well, at first. Getting Mitsu out of the cage was easy as pie. Making their way down the castle halls, they quickly dispatched of the guards. No problem. Donny kept cracking jokes. Then they reached Norinaga.

At that point, all chaos broke out. Mitsu lunged for Norinaga, and Mike jumped between them, and a sword came whistling down on Mikey's shell. Raphael bit back a startled shout. That had been close. Way too close. _Crazy show-off,_ thought Raph, equal parts worried and annoyed, as they fought their way outside.

Quickly they moved out into the open air of the courtyard and, while knocking down castle guards right and left, Raph kept watch over Mike out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't particularly easy. Michelangelo flitted to and fro, like a huge green hummingbird on a sugar high, his 'chucks whirling at breakneck speeds. But even from a distance Raphael could tell that his brother was pulling his punches, softening his blows. Which meant that, for perhaps the first time in his life, Mikey was listening to him.

Just as Raph let out a small sigh of relief, he heard the unmistakable sound of metal clattering against stone. Of a sword being dropped.

Raphael's head whipped around, and near the stairs he spotted Lord Norinaga—sprawled out on the ground, weaponless, defeated. Leo stood nearby, both katana drawn and at the ready. Oh, crud. While battling his own opponents and keeping tabs on Mike, Raph must have missed what was going on with Leo.

"Go ahead." Norinaga's voice was little more than a snarl. Taunting, daring, even somehow threatening. "Finish me."

Raph froze. Holding his breath, he scanned his brother's face for a clue as to what might happen next. Surely Leo wouldn't. Surely.

Eyes narrowing, Leonardo tightened his grip on his swords as he coolly replied, "Okay."

Or maybe he would. Jolted into action, Raph turned and ran. But he was too far away. He'd never make it in time. Still, he had to try. He'd _promised_. So he ran, harder and faster than he could remember ever running before, and a moment later, a moment too soon, a moment before Raph was in range to stop it, Leo lunged forward.

And cut off the man's hair.

Raph skidded to a halt. For a few seconds, he just stood there, rooted to the ground, blinking. Then he angrily clenched his jaw. Once this was over and they were back in New York … he was going to kill his brothers. All of them.

Actually, now that he thought about it, one brother was still unaccounted for. Glancing around, Raph spotted Don over by the dungeon. The dungeon door stood wide open. Wave after wave of prisoners came pouring out, to meet and mix with the pitchfork-wielding villagers that were rushing through the castle gates.

Raph felt his heart sink as he watched the villagers clash violently with Norinaga's men. If he couldn't even keep track of three brothers, there was absolutely no way he could keep track of an entire _village_. And almost as soon as that realization hit him, he saw a guard run his sword through a young village woman, who dropped silently to the dirt without so much as a whimper.

"_Don't worry, kid …"_

Raphael screamed his rage into the ears of an uncaring, unyielding night sky.

"… _nobody's gonna die."_

**---  
**Author's Notes: One more chapter, where my boy Don gets his moment in the spotlight, then an epilogue will follow.


	4. Expendable

**IV. Expendable**

The castle's temple was familiar and very much like the old lair—a dark room of cold stone, accented with wood and Japanese furnishings, lit gently by candles— yet the temple felt nothing like home. There was no warmth here. No comfort. No laughter. After what Michelangelo had just said, there was nothing but empty, stinging coldness.

"_Hey, guys … I'm not going back."  
_

Donatello felt sick.

As he watched April and Mike argue, Don tried to fight down his rising sense of uneasiness. Part of his discomfort stemmed from the idea of going back without one of his brothers. But another part … and, if he was honest with himself, perhaps even the greater part … came from the fact that it wasn't just any brother. No, it was _Michelangelo_. Michelangelo, his comedy partner. Michelangelo, his comrade during the Great Raph and Leo Wars. Michelangelo, his best friend.

Don sensed Raphael step up from behind, and he turned eagerly towards his red-masked brother. Allowing himself a small grin, Don reached out to lay a hand on Raph's shoulder. The contact helped, a little. It was grounding. Reassuring. Don's grin widened. Raphael was strong and tenacious and fiercely loyal. Raphael would put a stop to this whole "not going back" business.

Then Raph went and ruined it all. Breaking away and approaching Leonardo, he began in a slow, thoughtful voice, "I been thinkin' the same thing, Leo. People appreciate us here. We don't have to live like moles."

Don's discomfort kicked up a notch.

In desperation he turned to his eldest brother. His calm, clear-thinking, _responsible_ brother. "Hey, no way. We're all going back." When Leo said nothing, Don swallowed nervously and tried again. "Tell 'em, Leo."

"Actually …"

Eyes moving warily from brother to brother, Donatello frowned. Uncool. This was very uncool. Michelangelo was glaring defiantly at April, while Raphael stood stiff and stony-faced. Leo, for his part, looked utterly, thoroughly conflicted.

April's expression betrayed no confusion whatsoever, however. Her entire presence smoldered with barely-contained frustration. "Hey, guys, not to sound selfish or anything—but what the heck, why not?" she snapped out. "_I_ do not want to stay here!"

Don shook his head. He was no dummy. Mikey was set on staying, and his other two brothers were almost convinced. He didn't think April's protests would be enough to change their minds. Somebody had to turn the tide, and it seemed that somebody was going to have to be him.

So in a loud, clear voice, Don complained, "Do you think I could possibly live without a single microchip?"

He was lying. Lying through his teeth.

_Do you think we could possibly live without Sensei? _Or without April. Or heck, even Casey or Keno. But that still wasn't quite it, either. Not quite.

_Do you think I could possibly live without Sensei?_ Yes. Yes, that was closer to the truth. Sometimes, however, a lie was a necessary evil. At least, that's what he told himself.

But his ploy didn't work. Glancing quickly around the room, Don saw that indecision remained, plain as day, in his brothers' faces. His stomach sank like a stone. There was something scary, something wrong, going on here, but he couldn't place his finger on what exactly it was.

Then—as if to prove that no matter how bad a situation was, it could always get worse—the time scepter activated. _Great,_ thought Don, gritting his teeth. _Just great._ Discussion time was over. They had to move, and they had move quick.

April, meanwhile, was firmly shaking her head while making a last-ditch plea for reasonableness: "You can _not_ split up. You're brothers."

And suddenly Donatello understood what was wrong. He was the only one who wanted to go back to New York, and that meant … his brothers didn't care. They didn't care if he was there. They didn't care if they were separated. They didn't … they didn't—

His breath caught in his throat. _Expendable,_ a fuzzy, panicked part of his brain distantly recognized. _I'm expendable._

Expendable. Just like Sensei, apparently, and Casey and April. The word rang in his ears like a gunshot, seeped into his blood like a poison. It was a terrible word. It was a terrible truth. Closing his eyes, Don concentrated on breathing slowly through his nostrils. Gradually, grudgingly, his heart rate returned to something resembling normal.

He opened his eyes in time to see Mitsu and Yoshi enter. Looking over at Michelangelo, Don drew in a sharp breath at the expression on his brother's face. Mikey's eyes had lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. His eyes lit up because of … because of that _woman_. As Mike cheerfully nattered on about staying, Don did his best to tune out the conversation. There wasn't anything he wanted to hear. He also tried to the sudden jealousy that bubbled up from within and threatened to eat him alive.

But soon Don was distracted from his jealousy by the time scepter. It was accelerating. The time switch would happen any moment now. Uh-oh. Loudly and a bit nervously, Don called out, "It's picking up speed." But, unsurprisingly, his words went unheeded. Mike was still caught up in Mitsu, and Raph was hugging Yoshi as though he'd never let go. Don sighed and traded a helpless look with April.

"I've been thinking." Leo's voice. _That_ got everyone's attention. "We have to go back."

Don turned to his brother, curious. Curious and, almost despite himself, tentatively hopeful.

"It's our destiny," Leonardo continued in that calm, logical tone that did not brook disagreement. "If we stay here, we interfere with _their_ lives. And that would be selfish."

It did not escape Donatello's notice that his brother said not a word about missing Don. But he was nothing if not a pragmatist, and he'd take what he could get. If the "selfish" angle worked, Don would not look a gift horse in the mouth.

And sure enough, Mike and Raph were nodding along, albeit reluctantly. Then, with a heavy sigh, Raphael went and knelt down in front of Yoshi, speaking to the boy softly. Don turned his back to them to allow for some privacy.

As Raph said his good-byes, Leonardo turned away too, and silently Don held out the time scepter towards his brother. Leo wrapped his large fingers around it, grasping tightly. Don nodded to April next. She gave a brief nod in reply then crossed the room to take hold of the scepter as well.

Three down. Two to go. Don watched the scepter's whirling, crackling light with worried eyes.

A second later Raph materialized at his side and, to Don's great surprise and relief, grabbed on to the scepter without further protest. Four down, one to go. Glancing over his shoulder, Donatello saw that Mikey was _still_ talking to that woman.

"Come on, Mikey!"

All around them the scepter's wind and energy raged, screaming to be released. It took nearly all of Don's strength to keep his hands firmly around the scepter.

"I'm coming!"

As Mikey finally broke away from Mitsu, finally began running towards them, Donatello held his breath. It was going to be close. Too close. April, still holding on to the time scepter, stepped towards Mike and stretched out her hand. The crackling energy reached fever pitch, blinding, deafening, so much so that Don could feel his teeth rattling in his skull. At the last possible moment, Mikey lunged.

Everything went stark white, and Don involuntarily closed his eyes. Suddenly he felt tingling, beginning in his chest, quickly spreading through his arms and legs, out to the tips of his fingers and toes. Then, almost as soon as it began, the tingling disappeared. Carefully Don opened his eyes.

"Guys!" The relief that flooded Leo's voice was unmistakable. "We made it back to the den!"

Donatello let his grip on the scepter to loosen, allowed his hand fall down to his side. Hesitantly he glanced around the lair, pausing to smile when he spotted Sensei and Casey. After he'd completed his brief scan of the room, he felt his stomach clench and saw his vision go blurry with sudden tears.

Michelangelo hadn't made it. And Mikey? Was not expendable.

---  
Author's Notes: In the movie, Donny's the only one who never expresses a single interest in staying behind in Japan, so this chapter explores that a bit. Also, the idea that the boys wouldn't even _think_ of Splinter while deciding whether to stay or not? No way. You don't just abandon the old, mutated ninja-rat that raised you like that. Nope.


	5. Shockwaves

**V. Shockwaves**

A delayed temporal shockwave, Donny had explained in a tone filled with relief. It had been a delayed shockwave that had caused a brief reactivation of the time scepter and allowed Michelangelo to return home. There was a lot more explanation from Don, with a lot of jargon and diagrams, but after getting the gist of things Mike had tuned out most of the rest. The important thing was that he was home safe and sound. Besides, there were bigger mysteries for him to ponder than the mechanics of a temporal shockwave—mysteries like his three brothers.

Stationed on the lair's beaten-up old couch, Mikey played the latest _Spy Sniper_ game and ruminated upon those mysteries. Ever since they'd gotten back from feudal Japan, his brothers had been acting a little off. Not off enough to go to Master Splinter, or even off enough to be truly worrying, but enough that it had gotten Mike's attention.

Leo had taken to watching National Geographic specials on public television. Suddenly the guy couldn't get enough of the documentaries—from the African savannah to the South American rainforests, Leo watched with rapt attention. He'd also become the lair's new trivia master, outranking even the former champion, Don.

"Hey, Raph! Did you know that New Zealand has three official languages?"

"Leo, I swear—"

"Maori, English, and New Zealand Sign Language."

"—if you don't knock it off …"

Meanwhile, Raph had all but permanently moved into the dojo. Night and day, he could be found in there, pummeling a punching bag, destroying a training dummy, or pounding weights. Once, Mikey had stood in the dojo's doorway, watching, as Raph worked over the punching bag so thoroughly that his knuckles cracked and bled. When Mike had asked his brother what he was doing, Raphael had only muttered, "Atonement."

Which was weird and didn't make a lick of sense. But Mike had thought it best not to point that out, at the time. He instead retreated to the main room, leaving Raph alone to his penance.

Then there was Donny. While Leo was geeking out and Raph was working out, Don had bunkered down in the little computer nook he'd set up near the train car. Mikey had tried luring him out with every trick he had in his arsenal—bad horror movies, skateboarding, pork rinds—but through it all Don remained unmoved, not even bothering to turn away from his computer screens.

So finally Mike had brought out the big guns, pouting pitiably while whimpering, "Aw! But we miss you, Donny!"

At that Donatello had whirled around and, for the briefest moment, Mike could have sworn that his brother was actually _glaring_ at him. Then Don had blinked. And, just like that, any trace of hostility had completely vanished. Even now Mike still couldn't decide whether or not he'd just imagined the glare in the first place.

"Hey, Mikey."

Michelangelo gave a little start before turning around to see Leonardo casually leaning against the train car. Mike grinned. "Hey, bro. What's the haps?"

Leo's eyes immediately lit up. "Well, actually," he began, a slow smile overtaking his features, "Sensei just told me that I'll be going on a training mission soon."

"Oh? That's cool." Mike returned to his video game. "Where ya going? Up to the farmhouse?"

There was an uncomfortable pause. Then quietly Leo replied, "No. Actually, I'll be going to South America."

Mikey dropped his controller. On the television screen, his sniper was promptly gunned down in a hail of bullets and pixilated blood.

"Mikey …" Leo sighed, sounding tired. "It's only going to be for a while. And it'll help me become a better leader."

"Sure. I mean … wow. South America, huh?"

Leo chuckled. "I'll bring you back a souvenir."

"You better!" Mike retorted lightheartedly as he spun back around to face Leonardo. He took a moment to study—really, truly study—his brother. Leo looked happy. Happier than he'd been since coming back from Japan. Mike put on a smile.

"Well," said Leo, "I guess I better go tell Donny and Raph." Still glowing, Leo gave a somewhat embarrassed shrug and wandered off, heading to the computer nook.

Mikey let the smile drop off his face as soon as Leonardo turned away.

Then he reached down and picked up his game controller. He only played for a few minutes before he threw down the controller again with a frustrated sigh. Things really were weird because, as much as Mikey hated to admit it, he didn't feel much like playing video games. His thoughts drifted back to Japan. His thoughts did that a lot these days.

He and his brothers, they had been heroes. Kappa. The "chosen ones." Now? Now Mike was back to being just a shadow and a non-entity. And when he wasn't a mere shadow, he was a panic-inducing freak.

To make matters worse, the one brother who wasn't self-isolating at the moment … was now _leaving_. For South America. Michelangelo pulled himself off the couch and flipped off the game system and the television. Looking back towards the computer nook, he spotted Don stalking away from a baffled-looking Leo. Donatello didn't even so much as glance in Mike's direction as he stomped up the stairs, grabbed his skateboard, and left the lair.

"Uh … Leo?" Mikey turned to his remaining brother

But the only reply from Leo was a helpless shrug. Then, squaring his shoulders, Leonardo headed to the dojo, with the resigned walk of a man about to face his executioner.

Sadly Mike watched him go. He didn't know if he could handle this whole "Leo leaving" thing—with the way things were going with Raph and Don these days, he would essentially be on his own. And Mikey did not do well with alone time. At all. He thought again of Japan, of Mitsu's village. It had been nice to talk and laugh and just _be_ around so many other people. Especially those kids who'd peeked in on him while he was locked up. Mike brightened at the memory. The kids had been awfully cute.

Sudden and spirited shouting came from the dojo. Mike ignored it with practiced ease.

Everything was going to be okay, Michelangelo decided. One way or another, he'd be okay. So what if Leo was leaving? So what if Raph and Don had their own things going on nowadays? That just meant that Mikey needed his own thing, too. Maybe something to do with kids.

From behind he could hear grumbling, unmistakably Raphael in origin, and glanced over his shoulder in time to see his red-masked brother storm out of the lair just as Donny had a few minutes before him. When Leonardo stepped out of the dojo a moment later, looking utterly defeated, Mikey gave him an encouraging smile. Leo smiled weakly in return before disappearing into his bedroom.

Michelangelo turned back around and stared thoughtfully at the blank television screen. Yeah. Maybe something involving kids …

---  
Author's Notes: I know Movie 3 isn't canon to the 2007 movie but, while I have no problems keeping different universes separate in my mind--I have no problem, for example, accepting that Image Cyborg Donny and New Toon Monster Donny occupy separate realities--I find it a lot harder to wrap my mind around the idea that stuff just doesn't exist. I mean, sure, the third movie was crappy, but it _happened_. I even watched it--I know for a fact that it happened. So this is my fan-wank that connects Movie 3 to _TMNT_ 2007.

Ahem. Anyways. Thanks, as always, for reading! I hope you've enjoyed my updating of the third movie.

Update: Minor revision 9/13. Thanks for catching the typo, Rene!


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